


Bright Star

by naznahl



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brief Mention of A Height Difference If That's A Thing For You, F/M, OP Sidestepping Responsibility For Urianger's Dialogue By Having Him Quote Keats, She/Her Warrior of Light, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Worship Kink If You Squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naznahl/pseuds/naznahl
Summary: Urianger recites poetry as the WOL sucks him off.
Relationships: Urianger Augurelt/Warrior of Light
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59





	Bright Star

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to celes for the idea, plum for letting me cry over the one original piece of uri dialogue, and khove for the blow job feedback; it takes a village yadda yadda yadda. 
> 
> Also! The poem Urianger is reciting is John Keats "Bright Star" and is about the narrator wishing that they can be like a steady constant presence in their lover's life & lie on their chest listening to their breathing until the day they die. It's good. Also Urianger forgot a line which I did on purpose and definitely not because I forgot it, so be sure to read the original.

He lays kisses upon her shoulders, wishing constellations into existence onto her skin. It’s the first time they’ve been able to be alone like this for a long while, and they’re a little more messy and careless with each other than in the times past. Urianger leans down to reach her and she toes up to reach him, both of them agonizing against the distance to touch as much skin against skin as they can.

They pull at each other’s clothes, and as they laugh when they have to awkwardly hop out of their shoes, Urianger feels a peace swell into the cup he’s felt emptying since the last time she held him. Sometimes he feels like exists only for these moments where he feels all his anxieties disappear under her. He loves her easy grace, the way her arms reach out to embrace him around the waist at the same time as his reach to cup around her face to kiss her sweet lips, to which she gifts him her tongue in his mouth. Then they’re back to sighs against throats and mouths against mouths, and it’s enough for him not to think any longer than he has to.

“Urianger, the bed perhaps requires some occupants within it,” she manages to separate from him long enough to say. She’s breathing hard, her lips wet and shining in the lamplight of the room. She stares up at him and he can see the rise and fall of her chest, the dark hiding the flush he knows resides there.

He places another kiss on her forehead, more affection than lust, before bending down to pick her up. She laughs at the grunt of effort and flex of his muscle as he does, flinging her arms around his neck not to fall with his sudden lift. She’s flopped more than laid down on the bed, and it sends her into a fit of giggles that don’t subside as he pulls up lie beside her, his palms against her back.

Their bodies are pressed flush, naked now where their clothes had protected them against the sensitivity of skin against skin before. She’s still got a flash of a smile on her face as she cups a hand against the back of his head, starting to lean up on an elbow so she can kiss him from above, her tongue a welcome visitor within his own. He sighs against her mouth, the intake of his breath making him heady with the smell of her.

“My heart brims over at the sight of thee,” he murmurs, feeling the trembles of desire quicken within him as she pushes herself up to straddle across his torso, “the whole of thy desires art missives carved upon mine own breast that bid me follow thy steps wherever thou lead.”

“There’s nothing I would ask from you that I wouldn’t give back to you in return,” she responds simply.

He runs both his hands over her chest, stopping to thumb at her nipples, teasing them with the edge of his nails until they’re raised against the velvet of her skin.

She looks down at him, her eyes glittering in the moonlight as they shine down upon him, more than just a gaze as she stops to stare at him lying beneath her. She leans down to kiss both his eyelids and then his mouth before sitting back up and placing her hands on his wrists. 

“I want to take care of you,” she says, carelessly stripping away of any control he thought he’d regained while he had been the one with his hands on her. She pulls his hands away from her breasts, kissing against the veins of his wrists before dropping them back on his own stomach.

She flips her hair back away from her face, and Urianger’s gaze follows the movement to stare past her shoulder because it’s far easier than meeting the pinning weight of her eyes on him in this moment.

“Uri… tell me what you’re thinking,” she says.

He can’t, not right now, with her gaze searing through his chest the way that it is. He can hear her huff in a faint, teasing indignation before she pulls a leg off him, shifting down the bed to lie next to his legs. She puts her hands on his thighs, applying pressure but lightly enough that he has to be the one that spreads open for her.

She huffs again at his continued silence and kisses the tops of his thighs, lowering her head to sigh against his hardening cock. She doesn’t touch him, but takes note of the instinctual tightening of the muscles in his thighs as he flinches back from her being so close to him.

“I wish you would speak to me,” she says against his skin. She rests her cheek against his hip bone, and her face is gentle with a half-smile as she looks at him from underneath her eyelashes. The moon shines in on her from the window and her silhouette is illuminated, strands of her hair alight with the reflecting shine of light, and he’s not able to catch the clench of his throat as he takes in the sight of her.

“Bright star,” he recites, “would that I were as steadfast as thou art.”

She considers him carefully and it’s still so much to bear that he throws an arm over his face, shrinking into the inside of his elbow.

“Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night, and watching, with eternal lids apart,” he says, his breath hot against the enclosure of his arm.

She moves her face off his hip and hums near the base of his cock, more thoughtful than anything else, but still enough to send a shock of current through him. He gasps, his other hand gripping the sheets and his teeth clenching tightly. Her tongue flattens against him, and he moans from deep within his chest as she slides up his length with an unhurried lick that warms an ache through him.

“The moving waters at their priestlike task, of pure abluti- ablution,” he stutters as she reaches the top of his cock, “round earth's human shores.” He can feel the saliva from her mouth drip down warmly on him as he hardens under her touch. He feels her hand cup at his balls, and then another teasing exhale on him as he groans in the back of his throat in response.

“You’re so good to me, Urianger,” she says, kissing the tip of him before wrapping her mouth around his head. He groans tightly in earnest then, a strangle of a moan escaping him at her engulfing mouth as lowers her head over his cock, her throat tightening and relaxing as she pushes down as much as she can on him.

The hum – the hymn – of her on his cock as she takes him as far back in mouth as she can before taking her time sliding off makes him shudder so deeply that he cries out, too loud in the quiet room. The hand he had on the sheets shoots up to grasp at the air before resting on top her head and she laugh-moans when he pulls harder than he means to at her hair.

“Keep going,” she says, her own voice wrecked from her sore throat. She reaches up to hold his hand in place tangled in her hair where he's trying to pat it back down without looking at her still. “And you can do that again, as well.”

His face is still pressing into his arm, his ears burning, and he has to strangle back a cry as she bites his thigh when he doesn't respond quickly enough.

“Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask, of snow upon the mountains and the moors,” he continues, holding onto as much strength of will as he can to recall the words.

She returns her attention to him, her hot mouth back at his balls, sucking and then massaging gently at him. He’s leaking, aching to feel her mouth on his cock again.

Feeling the need for her rise up in him, he spreads his legs further, pulling up at her head to push her closer to where he's desperate to feel her. She gives him a full chested moan, and presses her nose into the hollow between his thigh and pelvis.

“You're good, you're so good,” she kisses into the skin of his thigh as he cries out, “I'm so wet from how much you want me.”

When she finally does put her mouth back where he's desperate for her to go, it's with an easy rhythmic pace over the head of his cock, no longer trying to see how far she can take him into her mouth, but out of want to have him come for her. Her fingers dig into his hips to hold him down to the bed, keeping him from thrusting up the way he wants to. She moans around him, lips tight as she sucks him off.

“No, no - yet still stedfast, still un-“ he gasps, wrecking the flow of his recitation, but quickening her mouth’s easy, quickening rhythm in response, “unchangeable.”

He knows that he's going to come soon, with the way his voice is hitching on the words, the way he's swollen in her mouth, the way that he's falling apart in her hands.

The tip of his cock bumps against the roof of her mouth and his hand on her hair jerks roughly again, and she rewards him with another deep swallow towards the back of her throat as her thumb presses in delicately with a nail on his balls.

“Pillow'd upon,… my fair love's ri- ripening breast,” he moans, “to feel forever its,…soft fall and, fall and swell.”

She breathes a laugh through her nostrils, unable to do more than let the sound vibrate around the fullness of his cock in her mouth, flattening her tongue and pulling him as deep as she can again, her hands pressing around him to cover the difference. He moans, his breath hitching up and in sync with her movements, feeling close to coming as a cloud of panic about spilling into her mouth without warning overcomes him.

He tries to pull up at her hair as a warning, a desperate hold on his orgasm. She places her hand firm on top of his in reassurance, squeezing his fingertips in a far kinder way than what the rhythm of her on him suggests.

He strangles out half a cry of warning and half a sob of grateful acquiescence before he comes in her mouth, the spill of him making her gag as his cock bumps against the back of her throat.

The rush of current that travels up his body makes him gasp in a sharp hitch of breath, and he has to press down his arm against his mouth to keep from screaming. She pulls off him quickly, coughing and covering her mouth over what she's not able to swallow.

When the tension exhales out of him, he immediately sits up, dizzy, to see her sitting back on her heels, her hair sticking up from where he'd mussed it.

She's smiling from being able to watch him orgasm, tear streaked face and ruined mouth with a wet streak of cum across her cheek, beatific in the moonlight.

“Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, still, still – and still, to hear her tender-taken breath,” he says in between gulps of air,“and so live ever, or else swoon to death," he concludes.

She pushes him back down, lying across his chest in exhaustion and he embraces her, smoothing out the tangles in her hair the best he can. They lie in the still of the night, their syncing breathing slowly coming back to normal.

“Thy wanton mouth takes me with such ease,” he says, spent, dazed and speaking in rolling mumbles, “witchery lives betwixt thy lips.”

“ _That_ didn’t sound like poetry to me,” she teases. He rubs a thumb across her bottom lip, hearing the wrecked hoarseness of her voice and knowing that he could never come up with the words to describe her the way he wants.


End file.
